At R.E.A.L.® Discussion, understanding how higher education approaches dialogue and discourse gives us a glimpse of what lies ahead for our K-12 students. The habits we build in middle and high school shape how young people show up as thinkers and community members for life. That starts with intentionally teaching how to actively listen, articulate ideas, question assumptions, and make meaning together. 

I reached out to Kristi Clemens, Executive Director of Dartmouth Dialogues at Dartmouth and co-author of From Safe Spaces to Brave Spaces, to learn how those same goals are coming to life on campus through Dartmouth Dialogues. 

Liza Garonzik: I’m excited to hear about Dartmouth Dialogues, but first, tell us about your path. Why do you believe in dialogue? 

Kristi Clemens: Thank you for inviting me. One of the joys of this work is connecting with people outside of higher education. We know we’re just one moment in a person’s larger education journey. 

Speaking of that journey, I’m a first-generation college student who never expected to build a career in higher ed. As an undergrad, I worked in admissions and residence life and found my calling in helping students grow. I tend to find the most joy in problem-solving work, so I sometimes describe myself as the person who runs towards the fire rather than away from it, and that’s been a theme in various higher ed roles for more than 25 years now.

That perspective shapes how I see today’s students. When they show up on our campus, it’s often the first time they’re confronted with something unexpected, and they aren’t sure how to handle it. They struggle with having uncomfortable conversations or talking through important decisions. These moments of friction and growth are pivotal, yet more often, I see students opt out when faced with uncertainty. Instead of problem-solving or seeking help, they outsource decisions or avoid hard conversations together. Their communication skills have precipitously decreased over the past decade.

And nationally, our discourse isn’t offering healthy models. If not higher education, who will teach these skills? As a first-generation graduate whose life was changed by access and challenge, I take that responsibility seriously.

That certainly resonates with our view at R.E.A.L.® Discussion, where we talk a lot about the opportunity teachers have to ensure their students graduate high school and enter today’s rapidly changing world with essential communication skills. Turning to Dartmouth Dialogues: what’s the origin story, the goals, and what does programming look like?

Kristi: Many colleges are rethinking how to teach dialogue and discourse, but Dartmouth began this work earlier. In 2019, Dean of the Faculty Elizabeth Smith noticed faculty struggling to spark deep classroom discussion and to navigate conflict with one another. She convened a small group to explore how other institutions were teaching constructive dialogue and drafted a proposal for what became the Dartmouth Dialogue Project.

The pandemic paused progress, but the idea gained momentum when President Sian Beilock arrived in 2023. Having led similar work at Barnard, she immediately saw its potential. Later that year, as global events renewed the urgency for difficult conversations, particularly following October 7, Dartmouth’s Jewish Studies and Middle Eastern Studies departments modeled what constructive engagement could look like through public panels on Israel and Gaza. Their example helped shape Dartmouth Dialogues, officially launched in January 2024.

Today, the initiative brings dialogue practice into every corner of campus, from the Dickey Center’s Middle East Dialogues to the Rockefeller Center’s political conversations to student-led debates through the Dartmouth Political Union. With partners like the Constructive Dialogue Institute and StoryCorps’ One Small Step, the goal is simple but ambitious: to make dialogue a shared skill set, not a side program. We want “surround sound” across campus, not a “dialogue house.” 

You’re right. Too often, dialogue is opt-in, missing those who need it most and creating echo chambers. We use a “Conversation Lab” analogy, like the computer labs that once taught every student to type. Imagine if discussion skills were taught with the same intentionality. 

Kristi: We definitely agree—intentionality matters, especially for today’s students. Our Gen Z students bring perspectives shaped by COVID and today’s political climate. They want change but often don’t know where to start. From day one, we set the expectation that dialogue is part of being in this community and give them brave spaces to practice. 

Students value it, and some choose Dartmouth for it, yet time is a real barrier. Our 10-week quarters move fast. They want these skills but can’t add more to their plates, which reinforces the need to integrate dialogue into existing courses and experiences.

Looking ahead, we’re exploring ways to anchor this work in the first-year writing program, seminars, and our residential house communities. Building trust takes time, but students consistently tell us they want dialogue embedded, not treated as an add-on.

We see the same gap: the desire is there, the skills aren’t, and time is scarce. Live conversation is rarely the most efficient, which is why protecting time matters.

Kristi: I think that’s why we’re seeing many pitches for AI chatbots as dialogue tools. Sure, some AI tools can help, but they can reinforce unhelpful habits. My own seventh-grader rarely meets friends face-to-face; they text and trade voice notes. The norms we’re allowing to solidify concern me.

That’s why I appreciate K–12 partners who interrupt those norms: phone-free schools, prompts to talk to one another, and more typing and writing rather than dictation. Small interventions can steer us back toward healthy interpersonal interaction, though we still need to learn how to scale what works.

K–12 colleagues like Eric Hudson point out that human–AI interaction is a “new category of conversation.” We’ll need language for it and clarity about how it differs from human dialogue. AI has compelling use cases, and face-to-face conversation has biological ones. We can outsource tasks and pursue efficiency, but if we cannot be good friends, partners, debaters, or collaborators, we lose essential social fitness.

Kristi: Yes, I think about late-night residence hall debates that challenged ideas for the fun of it. But on small campuses these days, a single misstep can follow a student, chilling discourse. Even so, there’s something rejuvenating about face-to-face exchange that challenges and is challenged in return. I hope we find ways to preserve that energy.

We absolutely share that hope at R.E.A.L. It’s not just about conversation; it’s about preparing them for citizenship, leadership, and life. To keep the conversation going, follow R.E.A.L.® Discussion on LinkedIn.

It’s been fun to see other founders share the “unhinged” things they have done to build their businesses. Many have resonated deeply: late nights, early mornings, competing priorities, sales-fails…

But to me, this trend is more than entertainment. It’s an example of authentic interaction in a world that is increasingly AI-dominated, and I’m a relentless champion for human connection.

So, what are some of the “unhinged” things I have done to build R.E.A.L.® Discussion?

1. I booked a terrifying number of speaking gigs, with essentially no speaking experience. One June, I ran 120 hours of PD, having facilitated half that number of hours total in my whole life to that point. And one October, I spoke at nine conferences, with exactly one presentation under my belt before that. Was it exhausting? You bet! Terrifying? Totally. But, I saw these opportunities as boot camp: time for me to build skills I needed and didn’t yet have, fast. Brain science says spaced repetition is the key to deep learning. After this experience, I believed it. I learned a lot in those early days—not only that I needed to develop a great program, but also that I needed to train great teammates to facilitate it.
2. I (over)relied on interns. Speaking of the team, my approach to talent management has probably been the most “unhinged” of it all. I began with interns, and will always have them. To this day, it fills my educator-heart to keep working with young people and giving them real responsibilities to develop professional skills: providing live client service, producing curriculum used by real classrooms, managing social media seen by thousands, and the list goes on. Those intern-only years launched the mantra that still guides our company today: If we’re learning, we’re winning.
3. I purposefully stayed the only FTE. Even when I could have afforded staff beyond interns, I chose to work with almost 90 contractors to build this thing. I have found that fractional experts offer high-quality, targeted work, and that approach has challenged me to get crystal-clear on each project I scope and direct resources and energy to. Plus, the constant turnover forced me to codify how we onboard and operate. This organizational maturity never would have happened if we had built with a few generalist FTEs passing Google Docs back and forth.
4. I filmed courses from my online-course-studio-laundry-room. After reading many blogs about how to set up the perfect online course studio, I decided I didn’t need a perfectly positioned fiddleleaf fig to get my message across. I built a standing desk out of diaper boxes on top of my dryer. I positioned my microphone as far away as possible from the chicken coop. And yes: the rooster makes his way into the audio tracks here and here. Hopefully, people find it charming. While an upgrade would be nice, thousands of educators have learned effectively from that setup.
5. For six years, I woke up at 4:30 am to do R.E.A.L.® work before going to my full-time job. I worked in schools during the day, then worked on R.E.A.L.® from 4:30–6:30 am. (You read that part about the rooster, right?). I saw the two jobs as complementary: my experience as a real teacher and administrator allowed me to design programs that would actually work on the ground level, and my bigger picture mission helped me keep the daily drama of school life in perspective. And yes: summers mostly meant even more time for R.E.A.L. ®, often spent on free passes at different WeWorks or leading workshops anywhere a school would hire me. As any founder knows, the time is there; you just have to find it.
6. Okay, I admit it. I even bought fake eyeglasses. Why? Because I’m not old enough to need “readers, “ but every great school administrator I know seems to wear glasses at least some of the time. It wasn’t just that. I actually got feedback that I needed to look older to be taken seriously! As the saying goes: to sell Jones what Jones buys, see the world through Jones’ eyes. (Don’t worry; I drew the line at the beaded lanyard).

Were these moves unconventional? Maybe. Unhinged? Probably. Worth it? Absolutely.

Those early days planted the seeds for a thriving company that has now served thousands of educators and tens of thousands of students across the country and around the world.

In fact, educators know what it means to hustle for something you believe in. At R.E.A.L.®, that means teaching real-world discussion skills in school, so students can build human connection even as they grow up in a tech-centric world.

What are the “unhinged” moves you have made to make your dream a reality? Drop a comment here or over on the R.E.A.L.® Discussion page, where we love discussing discussion. Of course, I always welcome a conversation.